"Who is there that wishes for more men from England!"
On the 22nd of August the fleet of the Infantes set sail from Lisbon,
fourteen thousand men having been decided on as the number necessary for
the expedition, and in due course arrived at Ceuta, where Dom Enrique,
who had hitherto exercised but little personal superintendence,
proceeded to review them, and to examine into their efficiency, Fernando
assisting him. The sight of Ceuta recalled to them both that first
campaign--so brilliant, so prosperous, so well-planned and executed. It
was something to receive the blessing of the Bishop of the city that
their father had made Christian, and to see it happy and prosperous
under its new rule.
As the day went on, Fernando grew very weary of riding about in the hot
sun, and began sadly to discover how unequal his strength was to the
fatigues of a campaign. Enrique, perceiving this, sent him back to his
lodging, whither he presently followed him in much perturbation.
"Fernando," he said, "things are against us. My mind misgave me when we
landed as to our numbers; and now I find that, instead of the fourteen
thousand ordered to embark, we have but eight! Many fell back on
hearing the Pope's decision; many more from respect to Joao's views.
There has been some strange want of common sense in the officers who
superintended the embarkation. They say their orders were not precise,
and the king's commands uncertain. Anyhow, we are here with but half
our troops?"
"Well, dear Enrique, we who are here must fight the harder!" said
Fernando, smiling.
"The commanders wish to send back the fleet for more troops," said
Enrique.
"No! How should we keep up the spirits of those waiting here? What
would the king think? And the enemy would get wind of our intentions!
We must push on at once, and trust in the force of our onslaught?"
"That is my own view," said Enrique, "but my mind misgives me!"
"That is the most fatal thing of all. It is too late for misgivings,"
said Fernando, resolutely.
"And you--how can you bear the march over these hot sands? You are
over-wearied already."
Fernando winced somewhat, but answered, "You might go by land with the
main body of the troops, while I with the rest go to Tangier by sea. I
could well do that."
This plan, after a good deal of discussion, was finally adopted; for
Fernando was far from well, and could not have attempted the land march.
He was the most cheerful and sanguine of the party; but there was so
much difference of opinion, and so much depression at the insufficiency
of the forces, that the joyful, resolute spirit of crusaders, seemed far
from the rest of the army, and time and energy were wasted in disputes
and lamentations. The men had lost confidence in their leaders, every
one was of a different opinion as to waiting for fresh troops or pushing
on as they were, and instead of prayer, praise, or hopeful anticipation,
there was perpetual wrangling.
It was now found that Father Jose's teaching had far more effect in
softening, these differences than Father Martin's; for the former led
them to dwell on the blessing of a high and earnest purpose, which would
consecrate success, and could not be destroyed by failure; while the
latter fell in with the popular feeling, by finding fault with the
lukewarmness and want of zeal shown by the other Infantes, who had thus
risked the success of the expedition. As he belonged to Dom Enrique's
household, he accompanied the land march; while Father Jose went by sea,
in company with all the members of Fernando's suite.
Harry Hartsed was one of the malcontents. There was something provoking
to his common sense in the ill-management of the start; and though he
had no expectation of failure, it afforded him great satisfaction to
grumble at the princes, and even at the king, by way perhaps of showing
that he was not a Portuguese subject. Young Alvarez was more scrupulous
and more serious-minded, but he had misgivings as to disregarding the
wishes of the Pope; and these two lads represented widespread phases of
public opinion.
Fernando heard but little of this. Remembering how easily Ceuta had
been won, and feeling the utmost confidence in Enrique's skill, he did
not much fear failure, and bore no grudge against his other brothers for
thinking differently from himself. He recovered his strength during the
sea-voyage, and as they neared Tangier, and he stood on the deck in full
armour with the cross of his order on his breast, the look of hope and
joy on his face communicated itself to his followers; and whatever else
they differed about, they were all ready to live or die for him.
Under his orders the landing of the troops and the meeting with Dom
Enrique's contingent was safely accomplished, and, in better spirits
than they had yet enjoyed, the little army prepared for the attack.
They found that their old enemy, Zala-ben-Zala, was in command at
Tangier, and soon became aware that the King of Fez was bringing large
numbers into the field against them. Before they left Lisbon the king
had strenuously advised them not to leave the beach unguarded so that
the enemy could cut off their chance of retreat; and he felt the
necessity of this so strongly, that he sent an autograph letter to
Enrique at Ceuta, entreating him to observe this precaution. Enrique,
however, either disregarded it, or found that with his small number it
was impossible to spare any from the attack; for there began such a
struggle as tried the courage of veterans, and showed the young recruits
the face of war in good earnest.
The Portuguese forces marched to the attack in two divisions, commanded
by the two princes. Each division fought under the flag of Portugal,
and also under that of the order to which its leader belonged, the red
cross of Avis, the green cross of the Order of Christ; and on Enrique's
banner was inscribed the motto he had so well earned the right to carry,
"_Talent de bien faire_;" on that of Fernando the humbler legend, "_Le
bien me plait_."
They fought on through the hot September day, with fresh battalions
constantly coming up to the defence, till they became conscious that
they were contending against a superiority of numbers such as they had
never contemplated. Troop after troop of turbaned soldiers came pouring
down upon them; nevertheless, they fought with such ardour, that
Enrique's division pressed right up to the walls of the town and raised
their scaling-ladders against them; Fernando's side having meanwhile
been so fiercely attacked, that it was all that he could do to hold his
ground. Alas! the scaling-ladders which they had brought were too short
to reach the top of the ramparts, and after frightful loss of life, and
long hours of vain effort, Dom Enrique was forced to sound a retreat,
before the darkness overtook them, at the enemy's very gates. He
reached the camp just as Fernando came up to join him, and the two
brothers embraced eagerly, thankful at least to find each other safe.
"You are unhurt?" said Enrique. "Then all is not lost."
"Oh, yes, I am unhurt," said Fernando, "and ready for another attempt
to-morrow. The odds are great, but our men showed no flinching. I fear
me our losses are terrible."
"So great," said Enrique with reluctance, "and the odds are so much
against us, that there is but one thing left to do, and that is to
retreat. We must go back to Ceuta, and wait there for fresh troops and
longer ladders."
Fernando recoiled almost as from a blow.
"What!--have we failed?" he said.
"Well, say we have not yet succeeded. There is no help for it,
Fernando; it must be done."
Enrique was bitterly mortified, and disappointed, and spoke less gently
than usual; and perhaps Fernando had never struggled so hard; with
himself as before he answered--
"You can judge best, my brother; be it so."
There was no time to be lost in making the arrangements. The army was
to re-embark while sheltered by the darkness, and Fernando went to see
how best to transport the wounded; while Enrique held council with the
officers, who all agreed with him as to the necessity.
There were loud murmurs, however, among the younger noblemen, and there
was a good deal of delay after the first decision before the final start
was made. At last all was ready, and Enrique prepared to give the order
for the march in the silent night, without banner, shout, or trumpet.
How different from that, morning's approach! What was it moving in
front of them, through the purple darkness of the southern night--long,
dim, white lines, between them and the sea?
Alas for the disregard of the king's counsel! They were the white
cloaks of the Moorish troops, and the little Christian army was
surrounded on all sides.
"Betrayed! betrayed! Caught like mice in a trap!" cried Enrique, losing
his self-control. "Where is the false traitor to whom this is owing?"
"Hush!" said Fernando, laying his hand on Enrique's arm. "Let none see
your amazement. The hand of God is against us. We were unworthy of the
cause we undertook in self-willed opposition."
He spoke in a tone of calm, sad conviction, and then, seeing Enrique's
distress, added gently--
"The blame lies on me. I know well that you acted for my sake."
Enrique shook his head; then, after a moment's silence, started into
energy again.
"Now we must sell our lives hard. There is no choice remaining. We
march on the town with the first dawn of light. And now to prayer. May
God have mercy on us! we are in evil case. Where is Father Martin?"
"My lord, my lord!" cried young Alvarez, rushing up, "here is a sentinel
who declares that in the dusk he beheld Father Martin pass him by, and
afterwards a figure steal to the enemy's lines."
"Where is the holy father!" said Enrique, calmly disregarding this
assertion.
But Father Martin was nowhere to be found, and instead of the proposed
solemn services, the whole camp was engaged in a passionate discussion
as to whether he had been the traitor or not. Young Hartsed hotly
defended him, and he and Alvarez disputed till words almost came to
blows.
With the first ray of light the rail to arms was sounded, and several
hours were spent in desperate efforts to break through the enemy's
ranks. It was all in vain; and as the shadows of evening fell the
recall was sounded, and in humiliation and sorrow of heart the defeated
princes sent to offer terms of capitulation, and to ask for what ransom
they and their troops would be allowed to depart.